Welcome to the 21st Century
by blurred fragments
Summary: In which Killian attempts to figure out how to use a computer under Emma's guidance. CS fluff.


"Emma, what are you doing?"

Emma turned away from her computer, smirking at Killian's confused expression. He appeared genuinely bewildered at what she was doing, which was a fresh change from Neverland.

"I'm using a computer."

"A what?"

"A _computer_, Hook." Emma laughed gently. "It's a major form of communication nowadays. Twenty-first century stuff. It allows you to do so many things. It's quite amazing, honestly."

"Oh." Killian blinked. "Could you teach me?"

"Teach you?"

"Yes, teach me to use a – a _conbuter._"

Emma nearly fell of her chair at his mispronunciation of the word, ignoring his baffled expression as seemingly unstoppable strings of laughter escaped her lips.

:::::::

"Okay Hook, this is a _mouse_." 

"A what?"

"A _mouse_."

"Emma, you're hallucinating. It's an oval with a string attached. Not a mouse."

Emma stifled a chuckle. "It _resembles_ a mouse. That's why it's called a 'mouse'."

Hook stared at the foreign object for a while, attempting to make head-or-tail of it (no pun intended). Eventually, he conceded that it _did_ look like a mouse, but a pretty poor replica as it is.

"So what does it do?"

"It uh, you use it to move your cursor around."

"A cursor? Like Regina?"

"Not quite. It's a little arrow that you use to navigate your computer."

"That's far from what Regina does."

"You are quite right."

"Then again, Robin Hood's a pretty good archer. He's good with arrows."

Emma's expression suddenly turned serious as she realized what a coincidence it was.

:::::::

"Right, you start by opening a window."

"A window? What has that got to do with a _computer_?"

"A window now has two meanings. One meaning an actual glass window, and one meaning a window on a computer. A window is basically a little box that you use to do all your computer-y… things. See?"

To demonstrate, Emma clicked the Safari icon on her desktop, and Killian did a double-take as a box sprang up, taking up the entire screen.

"Did… did that just happen? Just from you moving the _mouse_ and clicking that blue… _thing_?"

"Yes, yes it did."

"What is this sorcery?"

:::::::

"And you see, you can open and close a window. Like an actual window."

Emma demonstrated by clicking the red button on the top, and the window disappeared. Killian peered at the screen.

"Where'd it go?"

:::::::

It took a while, but Emma finally persuaded Killian that somehow, technology had become so advanced that these things just _happened_, no magic required. It also took a while for him to stop hesitating every single time he said 'mouse' or 'window'.

"Now, the Internet."

"The Internet?"

"Yes. By some technological means –" Emma had become quite used to saying this by now. " – it allows you to access this thing called the 'web', which basically has millions and millions and millions of things stored on it. You can watch videos –"

"Videos?"

"Moving pictures," Emma explained. "Real life recorded down. Anyway, you can watch videos, you can access pictures, you can search up things like videos and pictures and pages –"

"_Search up_?" Killian repeated incredulously. "I don't get it."

"Say you wanted to find something, you'd go onto a search engine, which allows you a fast and easy way to find what you want. See, for a example – Google."

"What in the blazes is the name 'Google'? Ridiculous name!"

"Agreeably so."

:::::::

"Wait, so I can search up _anything_, and this Google will have it and present it to me in nice little rows and such?"

"Yes. Pretty much."

Killian's eyes darted between Emma and the computer suspiciously. "Are you _sure_ there's no magic involved?"

"_Hook_!"

:::::::

"So how should I search it up?"

"Drag the cursor over to this search bar and type – " Emma faltered. "Oh wait, you don't know how to type."

"What exactly is 'type'? Isn't it a species or something?"

"Yes, but it also means to write out things on the computer by means of the _keyboard_." Emma gesticulated wildly towards the keyboard. "All you do to _type_ out something is to tap the letter keys. The letter then appears on the screen."

"Why aren't the letters in order?"

"Beats me."

"That bastard who invented this keyboard thing."

"I should probably also mention that typing is commonly a two-handed endeavour." Emma bit her lip. "But I suppose you could always use the pointy end of your hook to substitute for your hand."

Killian's hooked hand reached forward hesitantly, and doing as Emma suggested, he tapped the particularly long, yet blank key that was closest to him. Nothing happened.

"But… nothing's happening!"

"That's the spacebar key. It basically allows you to leave spaces between the letters. Try pressing a letter key instead."

Killian's hooked hand tapped the 'E' key, followed by the 'S' key, but the curve of his hook had resulted in the 'e34sw' appearing on the screen. He stumbled back in alarm.

"What the bloody hell! It doesn't work Emma – I didn't want to _type_ out those extra things." 

"It was an accident, Hook. You'll have to be precise – _only_ the pointy end should be touching the keys, not the curved area of your hook." Emma busied herself with explaining it to Killian, refusing to let herself delve into the fact that he may have just attempted to type out her initials.

:::::::

"Okay Hook, now that you've got typing down, try searching up something."

Killian paused thoughtfully, before narrowing his eyes at Emma. "You said once I was part of a story?"

Emma nearly choked on her sip of tea, having a faint inkling as to where this was going. "Yes, you are," she responded, attempting to keep a straight face.

"So… if I type in 'Captain Hook', would I find out more about this story version of myself?"

"Yes," Emma said between stifled laughter. "You definitely will."

With much difficulty, Killian eventually typed out 'captain hook' onto the search engine.

What he saw sent him in a raging fit of frustration, and Emma rolling on the floor, guffawing and struggling to breathe between her breathless chortles.

"WHAT IN THE BLASPHEMY IS THIS –"

"MY HAIR IS NOT LONG – OR CURLY –"

"I DO NOT HAVE A WAXED MOUSTACHE –"

"WHY AM I NOT DEVILISHLY HANDSOME –"

"THIS IS AN OUTRAGE!"

Tears in her eyes, Emma finally picked herself off the floor, clutching her stomach. "I'm sorry – oh gosh – lesson two – tomorrow – okay – yes –" she managed to say, before dissolving into another fit of laughter and staggering off into her bedroom.

**I felt like writing some CS fluff, not to mention after what Neal said about 'Welcome to the 21****st****-century" to Hook last episode, I felt inspired to write this. I might make this multi-chapter, if you guys want more. :) Reviews are appreciated. :) Thanks for reading!**


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